


No Man is Wholly Bad, Nor Wholly Good

by cytheriafalas



Series: Angels/Demons [2]
Category: SHINee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cytheriafalas/pseuds/cytheriafalas





	No Man is Wholly Bad, Nor Wholly Good

“What are you doing?” Onew hissed. “He’s not in there to _look at_.”

Key ignored him, waving a hand dismissively. “You put him in there, didn’t you? He’s not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that,” Minho added. “He might be stronger than we’re giving him credit for.”

“What? Don’t you trust his abilities?”

“I trust them until they fail.”

Key saw Onew shoot Minho a disgruntled look and grinned. It would keep them preoccupied long enough for him to at least get a look at their new guest. He was standing in the back corner of the cage, eyes narrowed distrustfully. Not that Key blamed him. Getting kidnapped off the street wasn’t exactly the greatest builder of trust, especially when you knew who was kidnapping you.

Even so, he stood proud, arms crossed over his chest, watching Key watch him. His shirt was open at the sides, black, probably leather, although Key had heard enough of his kind to not want to guess which animal it came from. His hair was tousled; Key could almost think it was just messy, but everything else was put together so perfectly, he doubted it was casual.

He looked normal, really, except for the dark tattoos that trailed from his shoulders down to his wrists. If Key focused his eyes just right he could see dark blue light sparkling behind his eyes, along the trails of dark ink, to his fingertips. That was what had given him away in the park. It glowed like a beacon in the dark to their eyes. The light was muted now, both because of the eons-old spells worked into the bars of the cage and the amount of his power he’d used fighting them off. Although he couldn’t see it, he knew the room was a degree or two colder where the creature was standing, and his skin would be almost hot to the touch. A few days in the cage would counterbalance both of those traits, bringing his body temperature down below what was normal for even humans, sapping him of his ability to draw heat from the air.

His eyes flicked past Key’s shoulder. Key glanced back to see what he’d looked at. The door was just opening, Taemin balancing a bucket of water in one arm, his forehead crinkled in concentration. The expression on the other’s face had changed to one of mild interest and he took a step forward.

Green light cracked across the bars and he stepped back, quick enough that Key knew he’d learned his lesson earlier. He raised his eyebrows in Onew’s direction, as if to say, ‘I haven’t done anything. Yet.’

Taemin was still standing there, mouth slightly agape. Minho collected him, an arm slipping around his shoulders and drawing him further back into the room. It was his first time seeing one of these creatures; they’d made sure to leave Taemin at home when they went to catch him. No one ever forgot their first. Key’s, and Minho’s, had been tall and beautiful. He’d worn a shirt almost like this one’s, except it had been an open vest with some type of jewels sewn to the shoulders. His tattoos had covered his chest and neck, radiating from his heart and then down his arms. He’d almost escaped Onew’s trap, but they’d all been younger then, dealing with something so much older and stronger.

They’d given off very similar feelings, he realized. Dark and dangerous like they all were, but they both seemed almost amused by their situations. The first had thought he could escape until the very end, this one seemed like he was humoring them by cooperating. It was disconcerting. He preferred the angry ones. At least he knew how to deal with those.

Key didn’t realize how close he’d come to the cage until he heard Onew shout for him to stop. The creature was watching him, amused. His grin grew when he jumped back.

“Your leader there could drop me before I even reached you,” he said.

Key’s breath stopped. He’d never heard one speak before. He knew they were capable of speech; he’d heard them screaming, even sobbing, but he’d never heard one of them _speak_.

“Probably,” Onew agreed, coming to Key’s side. He didn’t seem at all concerned that the creature had spoken. “I’m not willing to risk his life over it.”

“Afraid of what I could do to him first?” It sounded more like a challenge than Key was comfortable considering. The amusement was back, mixed with something darker and feral. He smirked, brushing his thumb across his lower lip. Key felt himself blush and he looked over at Onew for help.

Onew wasn’t looking at him, his eyes narrowed and focused. Key didn’t doubt he was looking for any surge of light. “I know your kind.”

Something flashed in the creature’s eyes. “One of us got you, didn’t we? I’m sorry to have missed that. It would have been quite the show. Did you make him apologize before you killed him?”

“Her, actually.”

The laugh that bubbled up from his throat sent a physical chill through the room. It was a reminder that this _thing_ may have looked human, may have even sounded human, but he was not. He was the thing that needed to be eradicated. He was the reason Key existed.

Onew gestured over his shoulder at Taemin. The boy lifted the bucket and tossed the contents at the cage. The creature hissed when the cold water hit him, jerking back into the bars hard enough to make them rattle.

“Let’s go.”

Key risked one last glance over his shoulder as they left. He was standing with his eyes closed, chest heaving at the cold. His arms were crossed before his face as though to protect himself. As Key watched, his hands ran through his hair wringing the water out. He grimaced, but transferred some of it to his mouth. He had to have been thirsty, even if it wasn’t debilitating yet. He’d already been in the cage for two days.

Key hated this part; he hated watching the breaking. It was always slow, always painful. If they didn’t break for lack of food and water, exhaustion and pain came next. Something always broke, Onew said. It was only a matter of finding what it was.

Minho slid the bar into place over the door, faint orange light sparking across it. Key sank to the floor, his breath coming in quick gasps. Onew knelt beside him.

“I told you not to get too close.”

“You told me he wasn’t there for the looking.”

Onew rolled his eyes and slipped Key’s arm over his shoulders. “Let’s get you to bed. We can take care of ourselves for tonight.”

But even his dreams were full of the creature. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs folded beneath him, but everywhere he went he could see his face. Every time he thought he’d outrun him, the creature was back, smiling down at him. He even held out his hand to pull Key to his feet. The one time he accepted the hand, he woke in a cold sweat to pale light creeping through the window. He couldn’t remember what had woken him, but his heart was pounding and he knew it was no use trying to go back to sleep.

The rest of the house was still asleep and they’d probably stay that way for a few hours yet. He really had intended on going to the kitchen and making sure they’d all done their dishes from last night, which they never did and nothing Key did ever _changed_ that, but somehow he found himself standing before the door.

He could still see the remnants of Minho’s binding, orange light infused with the grain of the wood. He took a deep breath and passed his fingers over the bar, erasing the orange light with his own. They’d all be able to tell that he’d come here if they thought to look, but he hoped they wouldn’t.

He pulled the door open, grimacing when it creaked. The creature was standing almost exactly as they’d left him the night before, even though the cage had ample room for him to lie down if he’d wanted. His hands were folded behind his back, head tilted slightly to one side.

“You look like crap,” he said.

Key raised an eyebrow. “Thanks.”

“I can be honest when it serves me. Really, you’d be surprised how often the truth is much more effective than any lie I can come up with. That little one you have with you? He’s been fucking--”

“Stop.”

To Key’s surprise, he did stop, tilting his head to the other side.

“You look like an owl when you do that,” Key muttered.

“What use are a candle and glasses if the owl refuses to see?”

It sounded like he was quoting something, but Key had never heard it before. He shrugged, turning back to the door. “I don’t even know why I’m here. You’re even less help than you were yesterday.”

“They used to say I was a sparkling conversationalist.”

“I’m sure they did.”

“Kibum.”

Key froze, his hand on the door, turning back slowly. “How do you know my name?”

“I know a lot of things. I could help you, you know. Your leader? He’s the one that wants us all dead. Not you. The little one is still too young to be caught up in all this. You could still save him.”

“Don’t pretend you care about Taemin. Or me.”

“You think that just because I’m not human I don’t mind dying? I know what your kind do to us before you finally kill us. I’ve seen it. I’ve watched it happen to my _friends_. We can have friends, same as you. Well, I have my favorites, anyway, and I don’t want to die. I especially don’t want to die the way you four are going to do it.”

“It’s what we have to do. If we don’t kill you, then you kill us. It’s the way it’s always been. Why am I defending myself to _you_? I’m not the _thing_ who kills people for fun.”

Key had been watching him pace back and forth in the cage, hands trailing across the bars as he walked, but he stopped, crossing his arms over his chest and lifting his chin. To Key, it seemed as though he were purposely gathering control of himself before he spoke again.

“We have names, same as you. We bleed, we feel pain. We feel it differently, true, and it takes a hell of a lot more to hurt us, but we feel it.”

“What does it matter if you have names?”

“What do you call us? Do you number us? What kill am I for you? Thirty? Forty?”

“Seven,” Key snapped, wrenching the door open. “And we don’t call you anything. You were so much easier when you _didn’t_ talk.”

“This is why you don’t talk to them.”

Key’s head snapped around so quickly his neck twinged. “Onew!”

“Take him out of here,” Onew said. Minho and Taemin appeared, catching Key’s arms and pulling him from the room. He heard a crackle and a pained cry from the thing in the cage before the door slammed shut.

Onew didn’t speak to him when he finally joined them in the living room, except to forbid him to see the creature.

\---

Three days later, Onew sent him to have his breakfast in the room with the creature. It was the first real step in breaking them, torturing them with food and drink while they had nothing.

This time when Key opened the door, he could only see a shape curled up in the far corner of the cage. Whatever Onew had done to him after kicking Key out must have been severe. He lifted his head when the door opened and rose to his feet, but he was shaky, a hand threaded through the bars to keep himself on his feet.

“So it begins, then?”

His voice was hoarse and the words stuck in his throat like his tongue was too thick.

Key nodded, taking his place in the chair near the door. He placed the cup of water on the ground, a little of it sloshing over the side. A soft whimper came from the cage, but when he looked up, he was sitting again, his back turned.

They sat in silence. Key tried to pretend he couldn’t hear the sounds from the cage; it was harder than it had any right to be. It had always been his job to sit here, taunting the creatures with his food and drink. He tried not to remember his first, the one with the laughing smile, but he could never banish that memory, especially when it was the proud ones.

It had taken them days to even begin to break him. But every time Onew told him to eat in front of him had broken Key’s heart. He’d never said a word, but Key could feel his eyes on him the whole time. He’d sat in that same corner, knees pulled into his chest, watching. In the later days, he’d slink closer to the bars, his hand clenching on the bars, stretching out toward Key. The sounds were the worst, half-sobs of the kind of agony Key couldn’t even imagine.

Key couldn’t forget the expression on his face when he’d finally broken, the way he’d just crumpled to the floor of the cage, and no amount of pain could force him to his feet again. They’d even enticed him with water, but he hadn’t even lifted his head. Key wished he hadn’t been there. It never seemed to bother Onew, or if it ever had, it had been too many years since his first.

“What should I call you?” Key asked into the silence.

“I’m not your pet.”

“I never said you were. You said you had friends. Favorites. What did they call you?”

The silence stretched so long he almost didn’t expect the answer to finally come. “Jonghyun.”

“How’s it written?”

Jonghyun traced the Hangul symbols into the bottom of the cage. They flared in pale blue light, almost nothing like the color they’d seen cracking across the park toward them, and he was so weak they faded almost instantly. That, if nothing else, made up Key’s mind. He glanced at the door; it was still shut tight.

“Come here,” he said.

Jonghyun stared at him, but obeyed with a shrug that said he had nothing more to lose, moving stiffly toward him. Key glanced back at the door once more and knelt in front of the cage. He caught Jonghyun’s chin with his fingertips and tipped the cup so the barest trickle of water hit Jonghyun’s lips.

When Jonghyun reached for the cup, Key pulled it away. “No. You’ll make yourself sick. Sips, okay? I know it hurts, but you need to take sips.”

He tipped the cup again, letting just enough water through to dampen Jonghyun’s mouth. He sat there, eyes closed, accepting whatever Key granted him. But even then, the cup emptied far too soon. The expression on Jonghyun’s face wasn’t quite pleading, he was still too proud for that, but it was close enough that Key reached through the bars, brushing some of the hair out of his face, the most tender gesture he dared make.

“I can’t get you more right now. I’m sorry. If Onew finds out what I’ve done, he’ll kill us both.” He turned away, but a hand caught his wrist.

“Thank you.”

“I haven’t done you a favor. It’s going to be worse this way.”

“You still have to kill me, same as I’d do in your position. There always has to be a bad guy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. My kind doesn’t often say ‘Thank you,’ so I’d take it and shut up, if I were you.” Jonghyun’s eyes snapped toward the door. “Someone’s coming.”

Key had just managed to settle himself in the chair when the door opened.

“You done?” Onew asked.

Key popped the last bite of food into his mouth and stood up, gathering the cup and bowl in his hands. “Yeah.”

“Good. Go help Taemin and send Minho here. I’m going to get started.”

“Already?” Key asked. He’d spoken too quickly and he cast a nervous look at Onew.

His leader was watching Jonghyun, who’d curled back up in the corner of the cage. He was watching Onew with eyes both wary and proud. “I don’t like the way this one looks. The quicker we get this over with the better.”

Key fled. He held himself calm until he’d passed the message on to Minho, and then he sprinted toward the bedroom. A while later, he didn’t know how long, he felt the edge of the bed dip and Minho’s hand on his hair.

\---

 “Minho!” Key called. “Minho, where _are_ you?”

“Seriously?” Minho demanded, his head appearing in the doorway. “You’re shouting for me? Were you too lazy to walk into the kitchen?”

“No, I just didn’t want to waste time looking for you in the kitchen if you weren’t there.”

“I don’t even know what to do with you sometimes,” Minho informed him. “What?”

“I need a favor.”

Minho’s eyes narrowed. “Key…”

“It’s easy. All I need you to do is watch for Onew, and if he starts coming toward the room, just let me know.”

“I’m not being your watchdog.”

“I’m not asking you to--”

“What _are_ you asking me to do?”

Key paused, but waved his hand. “Okay, I’m asking you to be my watchdog, but only for a little while.”

Minho let out a sound that Key _swore_ was a growl. He snatched Key’s hand and pressed his index finger against the back of his hand, then dropped it. “If I see Onew coming, this will glow. But I’m not going to stand outside the door.”

“I could kiss you.”

“Please don’t. And please, don’t do anything to get us killed. By your new pet _or_ by Onew.”

Key grinned at him and accepted the bowl and cup Minho shoved into his hands. But he couldn’t help but feel his stomach clench. He was about to commit treason. What he was doing went against everything he’d ever been taught, broke every law he knew. If _he’d_ found out about anyone doing what he was considering, he would have considered it his duty to stop them.

He pushed the door open with a shoulder and shut it behind him. Jonghyun was curled in the far corner of the cage again, an arm protectively over his head.

“Jonghyun?” Key asked. “I’ve got some more water for you. I brought as much as I could this time.”

He could see muscles tensing and shifting, but Jonghyun only managed to lift himself a few inches off the floor of the cage before he dropped back. Key could see the damage Onew had done the night before, places where the skin was worn thin from the restraints Jonghyun wouldn’t have been able to see or avoid. There were only a few faint bruises; the worst would have healed already. He had a long burn down one arm.

“Key?”

“It’s me,” Key said, glancing down at his hand one last time before he circled around the cage, kneeling at the corner. “Can you move at all?”

Jonghyun shook his head. “Not far. Your leader is… thorough. I would be impressed, if he weren’t being thorough on _my_ skin.”

Key traced a shape in the air above the cage. The bar in front of him broke free, dropping to the concrete with a loud clang. Jonghyun’s head lifted at the sound.

“What are you doing?”

“If you can’t come to me, I’ll come to you.”

“I could kill you.”

Key shook his head, a second bar falling and creating a space large enough for him to slip through. “A strong breeze could stop you right now.”

“I could be pretending.”

“Do you want this or not?” Jonghyun fell silent. Key took a breath and stepped inside. He pressed his palm to Jonghyun’s shoulder. Faint pink light spiraled from his hand and lifted Jonghyun until Key could maneuver himself into position. He let him drift back down with his head in Key’s lap.

“Your leader is going to kill you for this,” Jonghyun said conversationally, shifting away from the worst of the pain.

“Probably,” Key said. “But I can always tell him I was killing you with kindness. Open your mouth.”

He repeated the procedure of the earlier morning, tipping drops of water down Jonghyun’s throat, but this morning there was more wrong with him than dehydration. His body was struggling to heal itself. If he’d been human, even if he’d been whatever strange creation Key himself was, he would have been dead long ago.

“I knew him,” Jonghyun said, when the cup was finally empty. “The one you keep calling your first. He was good. He was better than me. He was one of my favorites, as you seem to enjoy calling them.”

“He had a name too?” Key guessed.

A smile quirked across Jonghyun’s lips, but the dry skin cracked, a few droplets of black blood welling there. He didn’t seem to notice any pain, sucking his lip into his mouth and swiping his tongue across it. When he spoke again, the skin had healed. “He had a name.”

“What was it?”

“You don’t need to get any more ideas into your head, Kim Kibum. We’re not human, and we’re not playthings. If you tried this with anyone but me, you’d be dead now. If you’d tried this with him, he would have enjoyed killing you.”

Key conceded the point. “Is it true you don’t eat the same food as us?”

Jonghyun’s nose crinkled. “Your food is disgusting. I wouldn’t eat it if I were starving.” He paused. “I _couldn’t_ eat it, even if I wanted. It’s like… grass to you. My body can’t turn it into anything useful. What are you staring at?”

“You seem so… _human_ sometimes.”

“I’ll choose not to take offense at that.” Jonghyun shifted, drawing himself up onto shaking arms and then into a sitting position at Key’s side. “We come from the same stock. All three of us. You got your creator shaping you into what you are, and we got ours. _Your_ creator was a sanctimonious… Well, suffice to say, we got the better end of the deal.”

“You have no conscience. How is that ‘better end’?”

“Don’t confuse yourself, little starling. We have consciences. If I were to escape from here, right now, I would slaughter the remainder of your little band, but I would leave you alive, because you helped me. If we met again, I would kill you, same as I killed them.”

“That’s not a favor.” Key paused. “‘Starling’?”

Jonghyun traced the streaks of color in Key’s hair with is finger by way of answer. “What you’re doing now isn’t a favor. And you’re doing it anyway. And when it comes down to it, we all prefer to be alive. You’d see it that way in time.”

“I wouldn’t.”

Jonghyun nodded. “You would. Your kind thinks you’re above pain and suffering just because you can dispense it upon others without guilt. Mostly without guilt; you seem to be an anomaly. But you break same as us. You die same as us, too.”

“I’ve… never seen one of us die,” Key admitted. “It’s been the four of us as long as I can remember. Onew doesn’t talk much about… who he was with before.”

“You’re charmingly naive for someone who has dealt out so much death,” Jonghyun said.

“What’s seven to however many _you’ve_ killed?”

“You say it like it’s comparable.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No. For you ‘killed’ is ‘murder.’ For me it’s…” he shrugged. “A non-issue. It’s what I do. I don’t think I can explain it to you. There’s no compulsion, there’s no aversion. It’s just… what it is.”

“What it _is_ is ending someone’s life.”

Jonghyun shrugged again, his shoulder bumping against Key’s. “You kill us because you have to, right? We kill you because you’ll kill us. Humans are just… fun. It’s like hunting. Except we don’t eat them.”

“You don’t?”

Key blushed when Jonghyun looked at him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to eat something that _looks_ like me.”

“Oh.”

“I am the monster you think I am. I’m the demon that parents warn their children about. All stories came from somewhere. They always do. Don’t think I’m something special, or unique. You interest me. It’s the only reason I tolerate you.”

“I interest you?”

Jonghyun ran too-warm fingertips across Key’s jaw. “Don’t I interest you?”

Key’s entire body tensed. One tiny part of him wanted him to stay still, to find out what would happen next, but he jerked away. His body’s natural aversion to the aura of these creatures, coupled with lifetimes of training, kicked in.

“You’re tired,” Key said, climbing to his feet and back through the bars of the cage. He held the bars up to where it was supposed to go and passed his hand over it, fixing it in place. Jonghyun watched him, face inscrutable. “I’m sorry. For this. For helping you. For prolonging this.”

“Like I said. We all prefer to be alive. Now go, before your leader finds out what you’ve done.”

After that, Key only dared to go back into the cage on days that Jonghyun couldn’t come to him. As the weeks progressed, it became more and more common, until Key hardly bothered to ask him if he could move. He never saw Jonghyun stand, barely even saw him on his knees. He spent most of his time curled in the far corner, as though that could protect him. It was the corner they all chose, eventually.

Key pulled the bars away and slid inside the cage. Jonghyun hadn’t shifted, even when the iron bar clanged to the ground.

“Jonghyun?”

Jonghyun made a sound, but didn’t move. Key set the cup down and curled himself around Jonghyun, drawing warmth from his own body and sending it into Jonghyun. It only took a few seconds for Jonghyun to relax in his arms, his body shaking as it latched onto the warmth and tried to take more of it.

“K-K-Key?”

Key shushed him, running his hands over Jonghyun’s arms in a somewhat futile attempt to help him warm up. The dark lines he’d thought were tattoos had a faintly different texture than his skin, almost slick and oily. “It’s me. I’m here.”

“I’m so c-cold.”

“Can you face me? That might help.”

After a moment of concentration, Jonghyun shifted, rolling over until he was face-to-face with Key. His lips were tinged blue, his skin pale. Key took him into his arms, pressing their bodies together until he could feel the cold radiating from Jonghyun’s skin.

“You h-had to steal m-my _sh-shoes_.”

“I’m so sorry,” Key whispered. “I was never very good at heat.”

Jonghyun buried his head beneath Key’s chin, nuzzling for the warmth at his throat. It took a long time, almost too long, for the shivers to subside and for enough heat to return that Key dared pull away.

“Jonghyun? You okay?”

“I’m so _fucking_ far from okay.” He saw, for the first time, a look of frustration flash across Jonghyun’s face before it smoothed away. “I don’t like being cold.”

Key helped him sit, pressing his hand to the bars at Jonghyun’s back. “These will hold heat longer than anything I can do. But I can’t put too much there or they’ll trigger alarms. Your kind has tried to escape by melting the bars before.”

“Wish I’d thought of that.”

“You wouldn’t like the consequences.” Key grabbed the cup. “Can you hold it?”

“I’ll probably spill.”

“Here.” Key sat cross-legged in front of Jonghyun and helped him to lean forward, pressing it to his lips. He drank greedily, emptying the cup in a few moments. Key let him lean back against the warmth and moved to his side, slinging an arm around Jonghyun’s shoulders and pulling him back in close. He was still shaking, although it had diminished from full-body tremors to the occasional bout of shivering.

“You’ve been gone. They sent Taemin instead.”

Key sighed, resting his head briefly on Jonghyun’s shoulder. “We got a call of another group who needed some help. It was my area, so Onew sent me. I came back as fast as I could.”

“The one that you caught this time. What did his…” he gestured to his arm, “look like?”

“The tattoos?”

“They’re not tattoos.”

Key’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t been paying much attention, really. He was only there for shielding and the occasional back-up, if they’d needed it. “Flames, I guess. On his hands.”

Jonghyun nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“I’m going to need to leave soon,” Key said. Jonghyun’s hand came up and caught his, brushing their fingers together. “I’m sorry. I wish there was more I could do.”

“I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

Key gradually extricated himself, fixing the bars back in place. When he got to the door, he looked back over his shoulder. Jonghyun had collapsed back into himself again, legs pulled into his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible.

He was getting worse, day by day, but even so, Onew was getting frustrated.

“I don’t know why this is _taking_ so long,” Onew snapped later that day.

Key jumped, jostling Taemin and almost dropping the knife. Taemin opened his mouth to complain, but Key spoke over him, righting the knife in his hand and looking back down at the chicken on the cutting board. “Maybe Minho’s right. Maybe he is stronger than we thought.”

Onew dropped into one of the chairs across the room. “We’re almost there, but I thought we’d be done by now. I don’t like wasting my time. That kill could have been ours, rather than Heechul’s.”

“Almost there?” Key asked. He tried to sound interested, rather than horrified. He wasn’t entirely certain he managed it.

“With Minho’s help, I think we can be ready by tomorrow. I want this over with.” Onew crossed his arms, slouching back into the chair. “I don’t like what this one’s done to you.”

He hasn’t done anything to me,” Key argued, but his heart was pounding. Onew couldn’t know. If he knew, Key would be dead already. Probably. At least they would have locked him away until they could deal with him.

“You’re jumpy,” Onew said. “You’re hardly sleeping. I don’t think I’ve seen you draw a proper binding since we got him. The quicker we get this over with the better. For all of us.”

“Is this one yours?” Minho asked, deflecting the conversation before Onew could go any further.

“I was going to give it to Taemin, but I think it’s best if Key does it.”

This time the knife slipped from Key’s fingers. He grabbed at it, and caught it before it hit the ground, but he swore when he felt the blade slice into his palm, ivory blood spilling onto his skin. Onew rolled his eyes.

“Wash that before you cut anything else.”

Key resisted the urge to throw an ‘Oh, really? Is that what I’m supposed to do?’ his way, and stood up, cradling his palm to his chest.

“You okay?” Minho called. They both knew he wasn’t asking about the cut. He’d never told Minho what he was doing whenever he asked him to play guard dog, but Minho wasn’t stupid.

“Fine,” Key said, summoning a smile and ignoring the real question. “I’ll just wrap it up and I should be good for tomorrow.”

He was still in the kitchen when Minho and Onew left. He waited until the door closed behind them to collapse to the floor, his entire body shaking with sobs. He heard running footsteps and then Taemin was kneeling beside him.

“Are you okay? Key?” When Key couldn’t even form words around his sobs, Taemin threw his arms around him. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

He didn’t know _how_ Taemin understood him between his sobs and his voice muffled by Taemin’s shirt, but the boy just stroked his hair for a few seconds. “Minho told me what you’ve been doing.”

“I should never have done it,” Key whispered.

“You’re probably right. But you did it.” Taemin hesitated and then rocked back to his knees, taking Key’s hands in his own. “You love him?”

Key shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean he’s… We know what he is. We know what he’s done. I know what he would do if I were to let him go…”

“You could go with him.”

“I couldn’t. I can’t… Do what he does. He says he has a conscience, but it’s… not the same. I couldn’t do it.”

“You can do this.”

“It’s different.”

“How?” Taemin asked. When Key gave him a disbelieving look he shrugged. “We’re killers too, aren’t we? We justify it by saying they’re the demons and we’re the angels, right? But how does that make us better than them?”

“Please, please don’t tempt me,” Key whispered, ducking his head. “We know what has to happen. We know what _is_ going to happen.”

“I’ll try to convince Onew to let me have one,” Taemin said. “I’ll tell him we should keep you out of it.”

“No. No, Taemin, don’t. He’s… I can’t abandon him.”

Taemin nodded slowly, although he clearly didn’t understand. He put his hand under Key’s elbow and pulled him to his feet. “Cold water,” he said, pointing at Key’s face. “It’ll make it less obvious. Then bed. I can take care of everything for tomorrow.”

Key had no idea how he managed to fall asleep that night, but he woke up to Onew shaking him. “Get ready. We’re going to do it today.”

He managed to dress with shaking hands. Minho handed him a full cup and empty bowl with a sad expression on his face. Without being asked, he pressed his index finger into the back of Key’s hand and then hugged him.

“I’ll keep him busy for as long as I can,” Minho promised in a whisper. “But please be careful.”

Key almost dropped the bowl while he was struggling to open the door. He slid the door shut and leaned against it for a second. He didn’t think he’d stopped shaking since being woken that morning.

Jonghyun’s head had lifted, only the tiniest bit, when the door closed. He was watching him with his head slightly tilted, but Key could see how much even that much cost him. His eyes were dark, his skin sallow, cheeks sunken. There were raised red weals all over his back and sides, most had yet to begin to heal.

“It’s going to be today, isn’t it?” Jonghyun asked. His voice was rough and he had to stop midway through to catch his breath.

Key nodded, dropping the bowl onto the chair and making his way to the bars he’d broken through days ago. He slid into the cage, cradling the cup of water in his hands.

“Are you thirsty?”

Jonghyun shook his head. “Water won’t help me now.”

He set the cup aside, just outside the cage, in case Jonghyun changed his mind. He slid up next to him and held out an arm. Jonghyun gave him a look but moved, gingerly, toward him. He curled up at Key’s side, forehead resting against Key’s shoulder. With the last of his power drained away, he seemed small. He was shaking, skin cold, even compared to Key’s naturally colder body temperature.

“I’m so sorry,” Key whispered.

“Stop apologizing, little starling. There’s nothing you could have done about it.”

“I could let you go.”

Jonghyun’s shoulders shook in a silent laugh; he grunted in pain and stopped. “I couldn’t make it out of the cage in this state. Even if I could, you’d hate yourself for what you did. Eventually. Every time one of us killed somebody, you’d wonder if it was me. Sometimes you’d be right, because I am what I am. There’s no reason to pretend otherwise.”

Key pressed his palms to his face, trying to stifle his urge to break down into tears. There was no way he could play that one off.

Jonghyun’s hand came up and caught Key’s wrist, a strange expression on his face. “What happened?”

He glanced down. “Oh. I cut myself last night. It’s nothing.”

“May I?”

Key shrugged, holding out his hand for Jonghyun to look at. He frowned down at it and brought it to his face, his thumb brushing across the half-healed cut. “You’re healing so slowly.”

“I could have asked one of them to heal it for me, but it isn’t that serious. And I wasn’t paying attention when it happened. It’s a reminder that I can’t afford to lose focus.”

“Is that some sort of good-little-soldier code?”

“It’s…” Key had never really thought about it. “It’s just the way things are. If it had been life threatening, or if it healing improperly would damage me, one of them would have healed it for me, but it’s not. So we just leave it.”

Unexpectedly, Jonghyun pressed his lips to the cut. Key made to pull away, but he saw the faintest flickers of blue light dance across his skin and sink in there. Jonghyun’s hand fell away, his eyes closed.

“Jonghyun?”

“I’ll be okay. Well, until you all kill me. That was the last of what I’d rebuilt since last night. You’ll probably still scar.”

Key looked at his hand. The cut had healed, with the exception of a pale white line across his palm. He lifted Jonghyun’s hand and interlaced their fingers, willing warmth through their hands. Light sparkled across Jonghyun’s body.

“I wish there was something I could do.”

“What you’re doing is something,” Jonghyun said, voice coming a little more easily in the warmth. “You’ll probably use this against us in the future, but we hate being cold. It’s the one thing that we all share. That’s why we’re always pulling warmth in from the air.”

“I mean I wish I could do something to save you.”

“I know what you meant.” Jonghyun shifted away from the bars of the cage. “I know a lot of things, remember? You’re glowing.”

“I’m… oh!” The fingerprint on the back of Key’s hand flared orange. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s what you have to do.” Jonghyun pushed himself up onto his knees, one hand gripping a bar, and rested his other hand along Key’s jaw. “Don’t get yourself killed.” And then Jonghyun kissed him, his lips tasting of blood and latent power. He let the kiss last for a few seconds before shoving Key away. “Get out. Before they get here.”

Key had only just managed to get the bars sealed again and stepped away when the door opened. The other three entered, Taemin with a long knife in his hands.

“Take him out.”

Minho gestured and the door to the cage fell open. Jonghyun was still hunched over in the back; he didn’t even lift his head at the first sign of true freedom he’d had in over a week. Minho and Key stepped into the cage, lifting him by his arms and half-dragging him onto the floor. They lowered him to his knees, where he stayed, his head bowed.

“Key.”

Taemin held out the knife. Key took it and knelt beside Jonghyun. It wasn’t part of the process. The kill could be made just as easily standing as kneeling, but he didn’t trust his legs to keep him up.

“Is he empty?” Onew asked, looking at Taemin.

Taemin was quiet, his eyes focusing just above Jonghyun’s skin. At last he nodded. He’d see the same thing Key could see. There was no blue light left anywhere on Jonghyun’s body. He had nothing to defend himself with, nothing to keep him alive.

“Yes.”

“You know what to do.”

Key passed his hand over the blade, letting his own light fill it and warming it just a few degrees so it wouldn’t be so cold against Jonghyun’s skin. Jonghyun’s eyes flicked up to his when the warm metal pressed against his throat. He swallowed, and Key saw fear and resignation in his eyes.

Minho and Taemin moved into place, holding Jonghyun by the shoulders in case he decided to try to fight.

“Do what you have to do, starling.” Jonghyun whispered, quiet enough that only Key could hear him. “Someone has to be the bad guy.”

Key’s wrist moved before he could consciously think about what he was doing. He felt a hot splash of blood onto his hands, chest, and face, and then Minho and Taemin were letting Jonghyun’s body slip to the floor. They were gentler with him than they were with most of his kind.

“Let’s go,” Onew said. “We’ve got another one. Heechul said he’d send Sungmin to clean up the mess while we’re gone.”

Key let the knife fall to the ground. He accepted a towel from Taemin and a clean shirt from Minho. They all followed Onew out.


End file.
